


Sacrosanct

by raphae11e



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (in a sexy way), Coming Untouched, Consensual Kink, Guro, M/M, Mind Meld, Porn with Feelings, Wire Play, fun with weird robo guts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 09:43:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15240642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raphae11e/pseuds/raphae11e
Summary: Adjective. Regarded as too important or valuable to be interfered with, especially of a principle, place, or routine. Synonymous with venerated, consecrated, divine.





	Sacrosanct

Simon didn't often consider himself the commanding type. As a human might say, it simply wasn't in his nature. But of course, there were always exceptions to every rule-- one of them being the sight currently in front of him.

“Simon…”

At the sound of his name, he raised his head from where he knelt between spread thighs. The hand resting on one of Markus’s hips remained there, fingers curled, a silent warning: _stay still._

The other, however, was currently hovering over the exposed wiring of Markus’s chest.

“Yes?” Simon asked. “What is it?”

It was a rare and therefore endearing sight to see Markus at a loss for words. He always seemed to know what to say in situations involving android freedom, or identity, but apparently that eloquence didn't extend to… _this._

Instead of answering right away, Markus simply looked at him. He blinked, one slow and languid motion, eyelashes brushing freckled cheeks. His mismatched eyes burned even in the darkness of their bedroom, and Simon, not for the first time, felt pinned by that look. It reminded him that, despite being in control, he was still the one on his knees.

Markus tilted his head to the side, let one cheek rest against a raised shoulder. His chest rose as he took a shaking breath of night air, and all he said was, “ _Please.”_

That alone was enough to send heat curling down Simon’s spine. So much riding on such a small, simple word. Markus was used to making something out of nothing, and even here that was true. “Yes,” Simon replied, like the ending to a prayer. “Yes.”

 _Anything for you_ remained unsaid.

Without another word, Simon leaned forward to sink his hand wrist-deep into Markus’s chest. Though the movement was slow and deliberate enough to be anticipated, the other android still jerked as if he'd been shocked. A choked gasp forced its way from his lips, head tilting back like he was desperate for air. The hip beneath Simon’s fingers jolted upwards, seeking purchase, or friction, or relief from the sudden onslaught of painful pleasure that resulted from displacing one’s biocomponents.

(Simon was intimately acquainted with the feeling. They had done this numerous times prior, and the sensation of Markus’s _hands_ \-- the hands of an artist, deceptively gentle yet precise as a surgeon’s knife-- sliding deep inside him was...)

“Like this?” he asked. Teased, almost. As he spoke his fingers curled around a handful of wires and pulled.

Again, Markus convulsed beneath him. Had his LED still been in place, it would have been cycling red endlessly. A pulse of heat traveled through their mental connection like a guttering candle flame. Merely a fraction of what Markus was feeling, and yet it still forced all the air from Simon’s lungs in a rush, made him lightheaded in a way that certainly shouldn’t have been possible.

There was a brief brush of another mind against his, radiating _need, need, need._ Simon smiled, lips pressed to Markus’s inner thigh. So _insistent._  Some might think it unbecoming of a leader, to beg like this.

Simon, however, found that he quite liked being the one Markus went to when he needed to let down his guard. These were the only private moments they were allowed, and so every second was precious. He memorized the feeling of Markus’s emotions and sensations rolling over into his own: so much anxious energy, so much want gnawing at his insides, all of it magnified twofold.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed, mouth forming the words against Markus’s skin. His throat felt thick with arousal and-- something else. Something tender and fragile.

Their bodies flared white where they touched as Simon allowed his fingers to brush over still more wires, coated in slick thirium and thrumming with heat. He could feel Markus’s pulse beating a frantic pace against his palm.

Fragments of thought pierced the gauzy haze in his mind: _please,_ and _there,_ and _Simon, Simon, Simon._ Each repetition was coupled with an abortive jerk of hips.

The air seemed to thicken as his own name echoed endlessly across their connection, the syllables dripping down his spine like liquid heat. If they had been said aloud, Simon mused, they would have been formed so perfectly by Markus’s sinfully beautiful mouth.

Such a thought nearly choked him. “ _God_ ,” he managed to say, and then, “ _Markus_.”

Above him, he heard a moan quickly being stifled. When Simon looked up, he saw the android leader with his chin tipped back and eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Watching closely, hungrily, Simon gathered another cluster of wires in his hand and wound them around his fingers. Tighter, and tighter, until--

“ _Fuck_ ,” Markus spat out, lips parting in an open-mouthed pant, chest heaving. His cock, painfully hard by now, oozed precome against his dark skin. The sight was far more mesmerizing than it had any right to be.

All this time, Simon thought with a sigh, and he still hadn’t laid a hand between Markus’s thighs. It was time to change that.

Trying and mostly failing to steady the shake in his free hand, Simon wrapped his fingers around the cock’s base. Markus immediately leaned into the touch with a broken moan. Another curse fell from his lips soon after, and something like pride glowed in Simon’s chest; any loss of restraint on Markus’s part was no small victory.

The, ah… _generous_ amount of slick allowed Simon to tighten his grip without hesitation, until he was pumping his fist in quick, messy strokes. Lust was sitting molten and heavy in his own gut, now. Surely it was the same for Markus; his body pressed against Simon’s, every movement greedy and clumsy, hips bucking up again and again now that they were no longer held down.

Simon was determined to catalog every last detail of this scene in his mind. The slippery sound of thirium and precome between his fingers; of Markus’s voice as he slowly unraveled. The sprawl of Markus’s legs, artificial muscles twitching in his thighs. The column of his throat as his head tipped back like an offering. Hands clenching in the sheets, insides throbbing against the meat of Simon’s palm, against the delicate skin of his wrist. Simon felt…

 _So_ close. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and noted with a vague sort of pleasure that his own cock was still trapped in the confines of his jeans. Each roll of Markus’s body above him led Simon to mirror the motion, rutting helplessly against the air, nerves alight with phantom sensation.

Pleasure was echoing through their link in a perfect loop of feedback. But it wasn’t _enough_.

“Do you trust me?” Simon blurted out, voice like a knife through the muggy air. He slowed his strokes and raised himself up on shaky knees. It was just enough that he could see all of Markus’s body laid out on their bed. The android leader’s eyes were closed again, thick brows drawn together. Simon could practically hear him thinking, and felt a flush of aching affection at the sight.

Despite the brief moment of silence, Markus was quick to nod before he even managed to speak. “Always,” he then said. The word dripped like honey from his lips.

Simon smiled, heart beating hard against his titanium ribs. He climbed up onto the bed, straddling Markus’s waist. His right hand disentangled itself from wires and synapses and found a familiar port set into the center of Markus’s abdomen. Fingernails catching on the seam, he _pulled._

There was a wet sound as Markus’s pump regulator slid from its slot, then another as Markus gasped at the sudden loss, and a final third as Simon’s thin fingers pressed into the empty hole that had been left behind.

Markus’s core. The epicenter of all his most delicate and vital parts. It felt surprisingly organic beneath Simon’s fingertips, warm and soft and _slick_ , and the sound Markus made when it was touched could only be described as _wounded._ The whole line of his body had gone taught and trembling once more. Finally his skin had begun to flush in reaction to the sudden rise in body temperature, starting at his high cheekbones and creeping down his neck and chest. His mouth hung open, pink tongue pressing against white teeth. His eyes remained open but lidded, threatening to roll back in his head. Markus looked _beautiful._

Simon bit his lip, hard, stifling a noise as he watched his lover writhe beneath him. It wouldn’t-- couldn’t, really-- be long now. Not with the pump regulator like this. His hand moved a little faster, gently prodding, slipping against the walls of the port. Such obscene noises, from something meant to be so entirely clinical.

His fingers pressed against… he wasn't quite sure. It was indistinguishable from everything else, and would have gone unnoticed if not for the way Markus practically _sobbed_ at the contact. A sudden spike of arousal shot down the length of Simon’s spine, enough to make him cry out in shock and pleasure.

“Ah, f-fuck,” Markus choked out, “Simon, _Simon,_ I-I--”

One more brush of fingertips against his fever-hot innards was all it took.

White light bloomed bright on the backs of Simon’s eyelids, _too_ bright, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open, because-- because he could feel _everything._

_His hands were wrist deep in thirium and wires and the slick-slide of viscera. His hands were fisted in the dry and threadbare sheets beneath him. He was on his back, on the bed, eyes shut. He was kneeling over dark thighs, on the bed, eyes open. Every bit of him felt alight, body exposed and raw like a wound, aching and throbbing against the open air, his cheeks were wet with tears, his hands were wet with blood, with come--_

His lips met Markus’s in a desperate, bruising kiss. Both of them breathing hot and heavy into each other’s mouths, vision blurring at the corners, they came down from their shared high. Quick as he could, with his limbs as boneless and uncoordinated as they were, Simon leaned back to grasp the pump regulator and slid it gently back into its slot.

Lying there together should have been uncomfortable. Fluid from Markus’s release now streaked both their bellies, and Simon already felt the catch of damp fabric on his own softening cock. But instead it felt… right. They became more human with every small imperfection. Even here, in their quiet bedroom, under the blanket of night.

Simon’s eyes took a moment to will themselves to focus. He was greeted with the sight of mismatched irises that were glassy with unshed tears. Up this close, he could see every one of Markus’s freckles, smattered across his cheeks like stars. Simon’s gaze never wavered from that face, and he watched as consciousness dawned there like the sunrise.

When Markus came to his senses, the first thing he did was smile. The curve of it was painfully tender, and Simon felt like he’d been struck blind.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hello, I'm back on my bullshit! I tend to take long breaks from AO3 (with my own writing at least) and then return months later for an entirely different fandom. Hopefully I can churn out some more fic for y'all soon, cause I really do like these characters and also David Cage is a fucking piece of shit. Thanks for coming to my TED talk, and for reading my porn!
> 
> And can I get uhhhhhhhh more nsfw fic on the Markus/Simon tag??????


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